


I'll Lead You Home If You Let Me

by DefaltManifesto



Series: And We Run [7]
Category: inFAMOUS (Video Games), inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Activism, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hopeful Ending, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Recovery, Rimming, Suicidal Ideation, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: Eugene's been running for so long that when he stops, he finally has to admit he needs help. Luckily, he's surrounded by people willing to give him what he needs.





	I'll Lead You Home If You Let Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SublimeDiscordance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SublimeDiscordance/gifts).



> It's doneeeeee. Finally. I have a few ideas for time stamps which I might post later but for all intents and purposes, this series is done! Thanks so much for reading and supporting and commenting. I'm grateful for every single view, kudos, and comment. 
> 
> Title from A Better Place, A Better Time by Streetlight Manifesto (I highly recommend you give it a listen)
> 
> And as always, comments are loved and appreciated.

[The tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

 

“Delsin, Delsin, look!”

A small girl, Ariana if Eugene remembers right, holds out her hand palm up and her skin shimmers and twists before a small daffodil emerges. She plucks it and her skin returns to normal.

“See, I told you, you could do it,” Delsin says, smiling wide. “Now we just gotta work on keeping them that small when you’re angry.”

"No more breaking windows for me, you’ll see,” she says before bouncing back to her bed.

Delsin rejoins Eugene in the hallway, sliding the door shut behind him. Eugene activates the Conduit proof lock and ignores the twisted feeling in his gut that he hasn’t been able to shake since they started doing this.

It was for the best of course. That’s what Augustine had said too. With Miguel and Elena’s help, they had constructed a ‘school’ to hold and train all the child Conduits while the courts decided whether or not they could be detained and tried as adults. It was better than the Curdun Cay like holdings they’d endure otherwise. Still, no matter how hard they tried to disguise it otherwise, it was still a prison.

Before they reach the end of the hall, the doors to the stairwell open and Fetch steps out. Her hair is pink again. She dyed it shortly after returning from her and Kuo’s first mercenary contracting job.

“All the kiddies are fast asleep,” she says. “Kuo’s going to stay overnight and keep an eye on everything.”

“Sweet, I’m fucking exhausted,” Delsin says. “Meet you guys back home?”

“I’ll be there first,” Fetch says with a grin before vanishing in a flash of pink.

Delsin nudges Eugene’s side before vanishing in a cloud of smoke. Eugene hesitates. He wants to go home. Delsin’s been improving the last few months with therapy and new project of housing and training kids helped too. For all his past delinquency, Delsin was most happy when working towards a goal. Eugene was just more or less along for the ride.

He pads down to the security room in the basement where Kuo sits with a wall of monitors Eugene had installed along with a server, operating system, and hard drive he created himself. No one was getting into his OS and getting any information on child Conduits. Kuo’s eyebrows twitch up in surprise when she sees him.

"I thought the three of you were going to have a night in,” she says.

Eugene shoves his hand into his cargo pants pockets and shrugs. “Yeah, just wanted to come down and see you first. We haven’t talked much since you and Fetch got back from whatever anti-terrorism nonsense you were doing.”

 “You say that like you haven’t already hacked into the government files and found out,” Kuo says.

 Eugene hides his smile by ducking his head. “Okay, fair.”

“It was fun, by the way,” she says. “Neon and ice work and combine really well together, almost as well as ice and electricity.”

“Guess there’s not much of a chance of getting Miguel in the field,” Eugene says.

“He enjoys the philanthropy too much,” Kuo says. “He’s smooth, a lot smoother than Delsin. I’m sure it’s a relief to Delsin that the press gravitated towards him instead.”

“I think so, yeah,” Eugene says. He scuffs the toe of his shoe on the ground. “What do you think about all this? The…security and locks and…”

“This isn’t Curdun Cay, Eugene,” Kuo says.

“It sure looks prettier,” he says. He leans back against the table on the opposite end of the room. “But it fucks a kid up thinking that this sort of treatment is normal and it’s going to haunt them later no matter how nice we treat them.”

“Have you talked to Delsin about it?” Kuo asks. “This is his idea after all.”

“Not yet,” Eugene says. “Maybe I won’t at all. He’s a lot happier doing this and I mean, the alternative is all these kids stay in military custody which would be worse than here and worse than Curdun Cay. It just feels wrong.”

“You don’t have to be here,” she says. “Fetch said Elena recognized you so you’ve been trying to keep a low profile. This isn’t really the best place to do that.”

“I’m…thinking of revealing myself though,” Eugene says. “I’ve been working with Elena on how to do it without you know, totally jeopardizing you guys in the process, and the only one who could fuck it up is my mother and she’s got no proof about anything she could claim so that’s probably okay…”

“And let me guess, you haven’t talked to Delsin about this either,” Kuo says.

Eugene shakes his head. “I don’t talk things out much. I just think until I decide and just do it, but here I am talking to you.”

“People have always been drawn to dumping their problems on me,” Kuo says.

“That’s…sorry,” Eugene says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine. I just think you’re telling me what you should be telling Delsin,” she says with a one-armed shrug. “If you’re worried that revealing yourself will result in jail time, I don’t think that’s going to happen. You were a kid, you’re white, male, and straight as far as they’re concerned. You are the poster child of sympathy in the public’s mind.”

Eugene nods. “Good point. And I guess if needed, I could go off the grid pretty easily again. I’m good at that.”

“You’ll have to decide soon. The first government check in is next week,” she says.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Go home,” she says. “Talk to Fetch and Delsin.”

Eugene lets himself flow into one of the monitors instead of telling her he’s long forgotten how to talk to either of them.

 

-.-

 

Eugene’s not all that great at talking, but he’s getting better at distracting Delsin. Currently, he has Delsin face down in the bed, crying into a pillow as Eugene’s fingers rub against his prostate over and over again, working him close to the edge for the sixth time that night. Delsin’s fingers curl in the sheets before releasing as Eugene eases his fingers out. Eugene kisses the base of his spine.

He likes making Delsin cry, it doesn’t matter how. But he can only ever let himself make Delsin cry from overwhelming pleasure because he can’t bring himself to give in to his other urges. Sometimes, it leaves Delsin with a dissatisfied look. Delsin likes the pain. Eugene wants to give it, he just doesn’t know how to articulate why it makes his chest tighten and his gut roll. So he sticks to this instead.

“Eugene, please…”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Eugene murmurs against the tan skin.

He slides his fingers back inside, faster than before. The noise Delsin lets out is closer to a whimper and he comes all over the sheets before going boneless beneath him.  Eugene bites his lip and then angles his fingers to rub against his prostate again. Delsin jerks and the low cry that leaves him is almost pained. Even so, Delsin’s legs spread wider and his hips tip up, welcoming whatever Eugene wants to give him. Eugene wants to fuck him until he comes again, then wants to keep fucking him until all he can do is cry.

Instead, he pulls his fingers out and jacks off on the swell of Delsin’s ass. He admires the look of it for a moment. It’s primal and stupid but he gets a weird rush marking Delsin up whether it’s with his come or his mouth or his nails. Delsin doesn’t even twitch when Eugene grabs a dirty shirt off the floor and wipes his come off, only humming with contentment as Eugene flops down on the bed next to him.

“So what’re you thinking about?”

“Huh?” Eugene asks.

“I asked you how your day was and you didn’t answer and then we fucked,” Delsin says, rolling into his side. “Usually a good sign that you’re thinking too hard about something.”

“Why do I bother hiding anything,” Eugene sighs.

“We don’t have to talk unless you want,” Delsin says, fingers trailing up and down Eugene’s stomach.

“No we should. I’ve been spending too much time up in my head,” Eugene says. “It’s just uh…I want to keep helping with what you’re doing but I can’t do that like things are. I’d jeopardize everything if someone recognized me.”

“Wait are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Delsin asks, sitting up.

“That I want to let the world know I’m alive? Yes,” Eugene says. “I’ve been talking with Elena about how to do it.”

“What if it…” Delsin looks down at his hands. “What if they try to lock you up again?”

“They can fucking try,” Eugene says with a short laugh. “Worse comes to worst, I go off the grid again. Permanently. It’d suck but at least I’ll have tried it your way first, you know?”

“You’re doing this because of me?” Delsin asks.

Eugene sits up, intent on getting rid of Delsin’s guilt before it can grow. “Not entirely. I mean, obviously part of it’s for you because I want to be a part of this thing you’re doing even if it makes me uncomfortable. But you weren’t wrong before, you know. I can’t hide forever. I’ll go crazy.”

"What about your mom?”

"There’s nothing she could say that would implicate you or Fetch. She doesn’t have any proof. I made sure of it,” Eugene says.

"Well okay then,” Delsin says. His lips twist up into a partial smile. “When you doing this?”

"End of the week? Elena is going to get me a proper like, speech or whatever and she’s got your PR guy working on it too,” Eugene says.

“But you’re scared,” Delsin says without a shred of doubt in his voice. “Even with their help, you’re scared and that’s why you haven’t wanted to talk about it with me, right?”

Eugene hesitates and then nods. “Yeah. I just…part of me wants to keep hiding. The world isn’t nice. It never has been.”

“Fuck the world, we don’t need it,” Delsin says, reaching out and grabbing Eugene’s hands. “We need each other, all of us. You, me, Fetch, Kuo. The tribe. These kids. We have each other. If the world wants to play nice, cool, but we don’t need it to if we’re going to be okay.”

Eugene’s chest warms, both at the words and the passion in Delsin’s voice. “You haven’t talked like that in a while. It’s nice.”

Delsin flushes. “It’s nice to feel like myself most days.”

“I wish I knew what I was supposed to feel like,” Eugene says, then winces because way to harsh on Delsin’s glow.

Delsin doesn’t seem bothered though. “Maybe after all this is over, you’ll know.”

"Things were good though, right? Before we went after Kuo?” Eugene asks.

“Not really,” Delsin says. “If you think about it, we haven’t been in a position to properly relax since Seattle. We were fugitives, then we were bigger fugitives, then three of us were in jail, and now there’s you who is still on the run even though they think you’re dead.” He shrugs. “Kind of hard to be normal and really be yourself like that.”

“And…I guess I sort of have a skewed idea of what’s normal to begin with.”

Eugene frowns, thinking about his basement lair down in the heart of Seattle, and then now, his small computer room without windows. He’d left Curdun Cay, but rebuilt the walls. They were walls he put there, but still walls nonetheless. Perhaps if he didn’t have to ensure his safety from the rest of the world, or the safety of the world from himself, he’d choose not to have them. He doesn’t know. He’d like to find out though.

“If I have to go into hiding again, it won’t change anything, right?” he asks.

"Between us? No, of course not,” Delsin says. “I’m with you until you get tired of me, sorry, and I know Fetch is too.”

Eugene grabs at him, wanting suddenly and desperately to be held. Delsin holds him close. Eugene lets himself feel small.

 

-.-

 

The press conference is hell. It’s one thing to walk down a crowded city street, another thing entirely to have every gaze focused on him. Delsin and Fetch stand off to the side with Elena and Henrik, the PR guy managing everything for Delsin’s charity. He sticks to the script Henrik prepared. Behind his shades, he knows he must look scared, so he’s grateful for the barrier.

The words come out of him like he’s a machine. His lips shape the words and he can feel the vibration of his voice, but he feels disconnected from the rest of it. He’s not sure if it’s fear or something else.

When he finishes telling a story of half-truths and half cover up, he clears his throat and steps back, eyes flickering over the crowd of reporters. Things are silent for a moment. Henrik takes advantage of the silence to jump up to the podium and slide in between Eugene and everyone else.

“As I said, we won’t be taking questions at this time. We will be working with law enforcement at the federal level as every other Conduit in Curdun Cay did,” Henrik says.

Delsin grabs Eugene’s wrist and tugs him down off the stage. All he wants to do as the clamor of questions from reporters rises is hug Delsin close but he can’t because the whole thing depended on him having just met Delsin. He couldn’t implicate any of them for harboring a fugitive. Luckily, Elena takes his place. She’s not Delsin or Fetch, but she holds him tight and it’s enough to ground him, or at least enough to get him walking.

“So what now?” Delsin asks as they climb into Elena’s car, parked in the alley behind the event center.

“Now, we take Eugene to my place and wait for him to be served a warrant to appear in court,” Elena says. “Like I said, the law states that Conduits locked in Curdun Cay have five years to come forward and go before a judge to determine if their record will be expunged due to the time served.”

 "Thanks,” Eugene says. “If you could just tell me that over and over again, I’d appreciate it.”

Fetch squeezes his hand from the passenger seat to his left. “Don’t worry. You’ve got a badass lawyer behind you, plus Delsin and even though you hate him, Miguel.”

Eugene rolls his eyes and then slumps against her. “I don’t _hate_ him. Just…”

“Have a jealousy problem?” Fetch teases.

"Regardless of your personal issues, she’s right,” Elena says. “You have the most privilege a Conduit could ever hope for.”

“Besides, it’d be hard for your mom to do an about face and hate you after she spent the last two months using you for her political agenda,” Fetch says. “So she’ll have to support you.”

The idea of having to interact with his mother makes his stomach clench tight and his blood pound through his head.

“Alright, we’re here,” Elena says. “You two staying?”

“I have to head back to the school,” Delsin says.

“I can stay,” Fetch says. “Give Kuo a kiss for me.”

“If she wouldn’t punch me in the face for trying, maybe I would,” Delsin says. He tugs Eugene away from Fetch long enough to give him a quick kiss and then vanishes in a puff of smoke.

“So are all Conduits in polyamorous relationships or is that just you guys?” Elena asks as she kills the ignition and unlocks the car doors.

“I think it’s just us,” Fetch says.

Eugene lets her lead him after Elena, zoning out as they go from the parking garage to the apartment building and into the elevator. He can’t help but think he made the worst possible choice. Attention had never served him well. Not before Curdun Cay and not after.

“The paparazzi will be surrounding this place within a few hours,” Elena says as she unlocks the door to her flat. “But you two will be able to leave quite easily I’m sure.”

Eugene sits on the couch while Fetch takes the nearby recliner. “You sure I’m not going to end up in jail?”

“Yes, for the thousandth time,” Elena says as she grabs beers from the fridge and comes over the sit beside him after handing Fetch one. “I’ve done this before. As long as you show up before the judge, there’s nothing they can hold against you. Not if you stick to your story.”

His story, right. The one where he lies about helping uncover the treason of top generals and ex-DARPA members, and lies about stopping Delsin from murdering Hank, and lies about how he’s sort of having a crisis about how much he wants to hurt the man he loves so much.

“I’m bad at lying,” Eugene says after shoving the thoughts away.  

“It’s not lying, you’re just not offering more information than they ask for,” Fetch says, reaching out and covering one of his hands with hers. “It’s going to be okay, Eugene. I promise.”

 

-.-

 

The police come and serve the warrant late in the afternoon. The officer almost seems bored with the whole thing, only making a disgruntled comment about how difficult it was to get passed all the crowds. Eugene supposes there is a lot to do with white privilege given that just a little while ago they’d almost shot a black child who happened to be a Conduit.

His court date is in a few days. Elena already has his statement prepared and he’s read it over several times, but the whole affair still has him vibrating in his skin. He makes it part way through dinner before pushing the plate away and standing up, the motion making both Elena and Fetch look at him with alarm.

“Sorry, food just…can I absorb some of your data around here?” Eugene asks.

“Sure,” Elena says.

Eugene bolts for the living room. He settles in on the floor and sinks his hand into the screen. The data flows into him, screen flickering. Infomercials begin playing but Eugene doesn’t pay attention to that so much, more intent on absorbing as much data as possible to silence the roar of panic in his head. He slumps against the entertainment center and closes his eyes.

When he comes back to his body, Fetch is beside him with her glowing hands moving up and down his free arm. The buzz of the neon is comforting as always. He tugs his hand out of the TV and it shuts off, leaving them in silence and darkness. He glances around but there’s no clock nearby.

“It’s late,” Fetch says. “Elena went to bed already. She was worried about you, at least until I explained.”

“What’d you even say?”

Fetch sighs, the light in her hands dying away. “I said that sometimes when we’re stressed, the best thing we can do is get closer to our true selves.”

“Never though about it like that.” She was right though. Giving over to his powers fully always made him feel better, more like he was real. “I wish I didn’t have to do any of this.”

“We fucking drew the short end of the stick on life,” Fetch says. She laces her fingers with his. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what we’ve done. I love you and Kuo and Delsin, I love kicking ass and stopping wannabe terrorists. But…all the suffering it took to get there, the shit I still wake up screaming about? I could go without that.”

Eugene rests his head on her shoulder. “I just hope this makes it better, not worse.”

“It will,” she says. “You’ll see.”

 

-.-

 

The next morning at breakfast, Elena’s cell phone rings and flashes a blocked number. She pauses in her eating and frowns.

“How the hell did the paparazzi get my number this fast?” she mumbles around the food in her mouth.

Eugene reaches for her phone, finger tips sinking through the screen. “It’s my mom.”

“Really? Should I answer?” Elena asks.

Eugene nods. It was best to get it over with, he just wishes Fetch didn’t have to leave so early in the morning to help Delsin with the government check in.

“Hello, Elena speaking…Representative Sims? Yes. I can allow that yes. Give me one moment.” She offers the phone to Eugene, and after a moment of hesitation, he takes it.

“Eugene,” his mother says. “Speak to me sweetie.”

Eugene closes his eyes, pushing his awareness through the phone and following the data stream to hers. She was recording the conversation. That explained the fake bullshit loving act.

“Why?” he asks. Two could play at that game. “You shoved me at a soldier and watched him break my arm when he hauled me away. So why should I?”

“Because I was scared,” she says, sniffling.

“I was a kid. So was I.”

“Eugene-“

“Don’t call again. I’m not going to be your pawn.” He hung up and passed the phone back to Elena. “Anyway, can we file a restraining order against her?”

"That bad?”

“How much do you know about my mother?” Eugene asks.

Elena frowns, leaning forward to rest his chin on her hands. “She’s ruthless. She’s one of the reasons Curdun Cay was as…successful as it was. She’s also one of the few representatives to keep her seat all the way through the Empire Event as well as New Marais and Seattle. She’s good at changing with the times.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” he says. “She sacrificed me for the sake of her political career and showing reluctant people that it was okay to put us in Curdun Cay. I mean, if she’d put her own son there, it’s gotta be okay, right?” He shakes his head. “I don’t want her using me for political gain anymore.”

“I’ll arrange to have it taken care of,” Elena says. “But you’ll have to tell a judge what you told me with more detail if they’re going to grant it.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Eugene says. One more hurdle and he’ll be free to hide himself away without endangering everyone else in the process.

“I’m a lawyer, not a therapist, but have you actually spoken about anything that happened to you?” Elena asks.

Eugene shrugs. “On and off I guess. I tell Delsin sometimes, if something’s eating at me real bad, and Fetch more than him because she’s been through similar stuff to me. If you’re asking if I’ve ever laid it out chronologically, than no.”

“You’re lucky this isn’t a normal court case,” Elena says. “There aren’t any cross examiners here to poke holes in your memory and make a jury doubt what happened to you. It was harder to help the other three get out on a plea deal the way they did. Still, you’re going to be reliving what you went through in front of a stranger so you should prepare yourself for that.”

“You trying to convince me not to do this?” Eugene asks, half joking with a nervous smile.

“No, no,” Elena says. “I just want you to be prepared. This could stir up some feelings and thoughts you haven’t had and honestly, I should’ve asked you about this before we went down this road.”

“I can deal with that,” Eugene says. “After all, you don’t get this far without mastering emotional repression. I’ve got this.”

Elena doesn’t look convinced.

 

-.-

 

 The court room is quiet, heavy oak doors blocking the sound of the press and protestors. Due to the nature of his role at the DUP the judge had decided to put the whole case into a redacted status so as not to jeopardize Eugene’s safety. Eugene thinks it’s a little ridiculous. After all, he’d already leaked the vast majority of the information months ago, and like Elena had, it wouldn’t take long for people to put two and two together.

Still, Elena had said it was a good sign that the judge wanted to treat him with respect. Even with that though, Eugene wants to flee. The chair he sits in is hard and uncomfortable and he’s keenly aware of the fact that all the focus in the room is on him, and even if it’s just one person, it’s still someone he doesn’t know or trust.

His form flickers into pixels for a few brief seconds before he reins himself back in.

“I’d say we’re going to make this quick and painless but given how many years we have to cover, that would be a meaningless promise,” Judge Hernandez says. “We’ll start with the basics. How was the DUP notified of your existence?”

Recounting this is easy. “I was bullied a lot in middle school. Typical stuff - shoved into lockers, beat up, whatever. Then one day I just sort of couldn’t…take it anymore. I got mad and manifested some characters from the game I’d been playing on accident to defend me and lost control.”

“Did you ever learn what happened to them?” Judge Hernandez asks, flipping through his notes.”

Eugene shakes his head.

“Two of them died. The other remains permanently disabled,” he says, looking back at Eugene.

Eugene laughs before he can stop himself and he knows Elena’s glaring at him but he can’t help it. “Sir, if you’re trying to drive home the severity of what I’ve done, you must not have looked deep into what Elena prepared for you. There are way worse things than a few deaths and a disablement on my record.”

“What my clients means to say is that this line of questioning doesn’t make sense given the totality of what he’s been forced to do, all of which could be counted as crimes,” Elena says, jabbing her heel into his foot.

“While that may be true, what I’m concerned about here is a clear lack of guilt,” Judge Hernandez says.          

“Alright, fuck this,” Eugene says. “You want me to show you how guilty I am for every single person I’ve been forced to kill or torture until they went fucking crazy? Stop by tonight around three in the morning. That’s about when I wake from my nightmares.” He shakes his head. “Just because I’m not breaking down and begging for forgiveness from you doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty for what I’ve done. I don’t need forgiveness from you. I need forgiveness from…” Eugene stops, chest growing tight. He takes a deep breath, but no more words come out, as if saying it out loud will make it all true. Of course he wants forgiveness from those he’s wronged. Wishing for it won’t make it happen though.

“Let’s switch to something else for now,” Judge Hernandez says. “We’ll move back to that topic later. Upon breaking out of military custody, there were records of your apparitions appearing to kidnap people from DUP cells. Did you ever have any contact with Delsin Rowe during this time?”

“Briefly,” Eugene says. “Long enough for him to steal my powers and then I helped with Augustine a little but after that I didn’t see him again.”

“So why did you reach out to him a few weeks ago?’         

Eugene shrugs. “He’s done a lot lately. He’s been successful by you know…facing society and accepting punishment and originally I thought I just wanted to be left alone but after seeing what he did…I wanted to try and do the same.”

At its core, it’s a rehearsed answer, but as he says it he can’t help but believe it. It was Delsin that had drawn him out after all. Even if he wasn’t giving Judge Hernandez the whole truth, the fact is he’d either be dead or still buried under ground surrounded by monitors if he hadn’t had Delsin in his life in some way.

“Let’s go back to just after you arrived in DUP custody,” Judge Hernandez says.

Eugene takes a deep breath to steady himself and then nods.

 

-.-

 

The trial lasts the whole day. By the end of it, Eugene feels as though every corner of his brain has been probed and ripped open and gone over with a fine-toothed comb. Things he’d forgotten swim at the forefront of his mind for the first time in years. Elena drives him back to the reservation immediately after without a word and he’s grateful for it because he’s not sure how to form any more words.

Delsin isn’t home when they arrive. However, Betty waits on the front steps with an armful of blankets which she wraps him in as soon as he stumbles out of the door. His brain feels fuzzy. Betty leads him into their living room and he stretches out on the couch, tugging his glasses off and letting them fall to the ground. He falls asleep to the sounds of Betty and Elena talking.

 

-.-

 

When he comes to, it’s to the smell of soup and Delsin humming. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, taking stock of how he feels in comparison to when Elena dropped him off. His mind feels clearer, but that doesn’t mean good. Before he can say anything, he starts to cry. That draws Delsin’s attention. Eugene hears him walk towards the couch, but all he can see in his mind’s eye is what he’d done years ago on loop.

He barely registers Delsin’s arms wrapping around him but he clings tight. He’d forgotten, somehow, how it had felt to have his projections yanked out of him and used on people against his will in the first year. After speaking with the judge, the experience feels like it happened yesterday. He just wants to forget it again as quickly as possible. Instead he just keeps crying. By the time he gets himself together, he feels weak and Delsin’s shirt is soaked through.

“Tough afternoon huh?” Delsin asks, rubbing the space between Eugene’s shoulders blades.

“That’s one way to put it.” Eugene sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve before leaning away and grabbing his glasses off the floor. “Fuck I just…”

He can’t finish his sentence, too overwhelmed.

"Let’s eat first,” Delsin says. “Betty keeps telling me it’s easier to talk after that. Plus then Fetch will be back.”

The idea comforts him. He loves Delsin but he needs someone who understand what he’s done, what he’s been through, and still loves him regardless.

“Made the stew myself,” Delsin says as he sets the bowls in front of them at the table. “Betty’s recipe obviously, but I don’t think I fucked it up too bad.”

“Even if you had, I’m used to eating junk food,” Eugene says.

“Which is why I’m trying to learn how to cook,” Delsin says. “Reggie always said I should learn anyway in case I found a pretty lady. Said it would make me a ‘not as bad of a catch’.”

“Oh.” Eugene smiles. “Am I the pretty lady?”

“If you want to be,” he says.

Eugene ends up swallowing a total of four bowls of stew and by the end of it he feels better than he has in days. The shakiness is gone and he dozes in his chair as Delsin cleans up. He comes back to awareness when Delsin cups his cheeks and presses their lips together, and his breath catches before he relaxes once more. He reaches up and pushes Delsin’s beanie off his head so he can get his fingers in Delsin’s hair. That alone helps. When he tugs, just the way Delsin likes, the moan that results let him take control of the kiss. For a moment, he lets himself get lost in it.

“We should worry about talking later. Want to do something else right now,” Eugene says, mumbling the words against Delsin’s lips.

“Yeah babe whatever you want.”

Whatever he wants turns out to be Delsin on his knees between Eugene’s legs while Eugene fucks his throat. He keeps his fingers in Delsin’s hair. There’s a chance he has a slight obsession with it. If he were honest with himself, his obsession is more with Delsin as a whole but that didn’t really change much. He pauses after a few thrusts when Delsin’s eyes tear up. He doesn’t want to. He wants to make him cry more.

“You don’t have to stop,” Delsin says, rubbing Eugene’s thighs. “Seriously. Take whatever you need, I’m willing.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Eugene whispers.

“It’s not hurting,” Delsin says. He sucks at the tip of Eugene’s cock before pulling away again, a tease of what Eugene could have if he’d just get his shit together for two seconds and accept a blow job. “If we both get off on it, no one’s getting hurt.”

“Just…” Eugene doesn’t want to fight anymore. He wants to have control for just a little while and let go. “Make me stop if you need me to.”

Delsin pulls back and raises an eyebrow. “I’m stronger than you. Don’t worry.”

Eugene takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on Delsin’s hair. The warmth of his mouth is familiar but it never fails to make his whole body tighten with pleasure and then release as Delsin bends easily at his urging. He stops moving Delsin’s head for a moment, curious to see if he’ll keep going but he stays still, eyes closed. Eugene takes a steadying breath and moves his hips up a little, chasing the right warmth at the back of Delsin’s threat and Delsin just takes it, swallowing around him and breathing when Eugene lets him. The control Delsin gives him is almost more pleasurable than the feel of his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for him to come. He’s too on edge. It feels great, but he almost needs to come, like if he doesn’t he’ll just get wound up tighter and tighter until he explodes. Delsin swallows what he gives him with ease. When Eugene stops clinging to him and lets his arms drop to the arm rests, Delsin keeps going. He doesn’t take Eugene’s cock deep. Instead, he suckles at the head and makes Eugene squirm and brings a hand up to trail over his hole with his fingers.

Eugene lets his head tilt back and his eyes slide shut. The urgency and purpose from before is gone now, Delsin’s touch light and gentle like he’s touching just to touch and make Eugene feel…cared for. He relaxes into it as the oversensitivity eases. Delsin hums and moves down to kiss the base of his cock. The action makes arousal curl in his gut, sleepy and warm. It’s just so submissive – trusting. He may be a fuck up but he can’t be too bad when he’s got someone like Delsin on his knees for him. Besides, if he wanted, he could break Delsin’s will and get the same thing because he spent years learning how to do just that. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have to. Delsin just gives it willingly.

Delsin pulls back. “Hey. I have an idea.”

His voice is rough and all Eugene can think of is that he did that. It’s like leaving marks on Delsin, but some how better because Delsin can’t hide his voice.

"What?” Eugene asks.

Delsin helps him pull his pants back up and then leans back against the table. “Ever heard of cock-warming?”

Eugene shakes his head. “And you’ve heard of it how?”

“You’ve had you know, issues, with the kinkier stuff, so I’ve been looking into things to try that wouldn’t be in the realm of triggering you or making you uncomfortable,” Delsin says, a flush creeping up his neck. “And this would give you control but you wouldn’t have to worry about hurting me or something. It’s just an idea. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

"What even is it?” Eugene asks, mind trying to wrap around the idea that Delsin had been looking for ways to give Eugene what he wanted without making him nervous. God damn, he didn’t deserve him.

“It’s like you just. Sit. And do your thing on the computer or TV or whatever and I hold your dick in my mouth,” Delsin says, blushing more. It’s a bit ridiculous. He’s said plenty of filthy or sappy things when they’ve fucked but sometimes they both still get shy.

“So like a blow job?” Eugene asks.

“No, the point isn’t to come. The point is for me to…service you and focus on you while you do whatever you want.”

“With my cock down your throat.”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

Eugene’s not sure how he’d be able to focus on anything like that but the idea is appealing, especially since he wants more than anything to be in control of everything. But…he still feels uneasy. He can’t trust himself when he’s in this sort of mindset.

“Can Fetch be here?” he asks.

“I don’t mind,” Delsin says. “I’ll tell her to hurry up. Go get in something comfortable okay?”

Eugene nods and gets to his feet and heads to his room. He likes this room better than the old place in Seattle because it feels like home instead of a makeshift Curdun Cay. His city bunker was metal not concrete. It was still cold though. Here he has a wall of monitors with cords running into the basement where he and Delsin set up all of his servers so he still has what he had before. It’s just cozier now. He has possessions now – Heaven’s Hellfire figurines, Marvel comic books, and a few Star Trek blankets. Childish shit, maybe, but he’d never gotten much of a chance to have them when he was younger.

He changes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He thinks about sitting at his desk or maybe the couch in the living room, Delsin between his legs quiet and still, focused only on Eugene’s cock. A shiver of anticipation winds down his spine.

“Hey, Fetch will be here in a minute,” Delsin says as he enters the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine…” Eugene looks over at him. “Thanks for trying it for me. I know I can be difficult.”

"It’s not that,” Delsin says. He reaches out and squeezes Eugene’s shoulders. “I want to make you feel good especially after what you went through today.”

“Not gonna say no to that.”

Delsin leads him back to the living room and guides him to the couch. Fetch knocks a second after he sits before appearing in a shower of pink neon on the couch next to him.

“Hey,” she says. She curls into his side and twines an arm with his. “Delsin was all vague. What’s the plan here?”

“We’re trying something kinky,” Eugene says. “But I don’t really trust myself because today was…”

“Shit,” Fetch says.

“Right. So I wanted you here.”

Fetch cups his face and turns him so he can press a kiss to his lips. “Makes perfect sense to me. So what are we doing exactly and why are we here and not the bedroom?”

“It’s not about sex this time,” Delsin says as he kneels. “It’s uhhh cock-warming.”

“Ooooh,” Fetch says, letting go of Eugene’s face. “So can we finally watch that Mean Girls movie Lucy’s been insisting is a pre Empire Event classic?”

“No, I want to watch it and I’ll be preoccupied,” Delsin says.

“Picky. Fine, I’ll search Netflix while you two get situated.”

Fetch climbs off the couch while Delsin tugs Eugene’s sweats off and then situated himself kneeling between Eugene’s legs. Eugene bites the inside of his cheek when Delsin cradles his soft cock and guides it into his mouth, trying not to disturb the careful moment with some nervous comment. Fetch rejoins him with the PS4 controller in hand as Netflix loads up on the TV. For a moment, all he can think about is the warm heat around his dick. His attention is taken away though when Fetch nudges his side and starts going through the titles of her list, all shitty reality TV shows he can’t believe she actually watches.

"I guess the baking one is good,” he says after some thought.

“Cupcake Wars is the best. Makes me so fucking hungry though,” Fetch says.

She curls into his side as the show beings to play. Delsin shifts between his legs and takes his cock a bit deeper before settling in once more with his eyes sliding shut. Eugene drops a hand to the top of his head as he rests his cheek on Fetch’s head. Delsin makes a soft noise in response. He has to bite his lip around a moan from the action, his cock firming up a little. Delsin doesn’t move again though and before long, he’s more focused on the TV than Delsin, his mouth not much more than physical background noise.    

His fingers trail absentmindedly through Delsin’s hair and down to his face and throat. He can’t feel himself there, but the knowledge that he’s there and that Delsin can’t do anything but focus on how to breath around his cock makes him feel…relaxed. He’s completely in control. That’s what makes it easy, simple really, to sink back into the couch and just zone out. His fingers find Delsin’s hair again and comb through it off and on when the urge strikes him while Fetch narrates the show with her criticism of the contestants’ decorating choices.

Fetch pauses it halfway through the second episode. Eugene glances down and Delsin stares back up at him, cheeks flushed with his mouth full and with the way he’s kneeling, Eugene can see how hard he is, cock straining against his jeans. Fetch reaches out, finger tracing Delsin’s lips which are stretched and wet.

“He makes a pretty picture,” she says. “Desperate when you’re not even hard.”

Delsin squirms and pulls back, gasping against Eugene’s bare thigh. “Please…”

“What do you want?” Eugene asks, and there’s a cruelty in his voice that’s familiar in the wrong ways, but Delsin’s eyes dilate when he hears it and he presses closer, lips sliding over his balls.

“Make you come,” Delsin says. “Please…”

"Yeah?” Eugene twists his fingers a little tighter in his hair, a reminder that he could pull him back. “Can’t just hold it in your mouth, gotta ask for more?”

“Greedy,” Fetch says.

Delsin flushes and reaches down to adjust his dick in his pants. Seeing how hot the shame gets him makes Eugene want to do even more. He takes his half hard cock in hand and pulls Delsin’s head back so he can tease him with it. He slicks up Delsin’s lips even more with pre-come. Delsin takes it, grateful, and licks his lips when Eugene pulls the head of his cock and when Delsin’s mouth drops open, he taps it against his tongue while keeping his grip on Delsin’s hair tight so all he can do is take what Eugene gives him.

“Fuck,” Eugene says, voice hushed as he guides his now hard dick into Delsin’s mouth. “You can suck me off now.”

He lets go of Delsin’s hair and his cock slides to the back of Delsin’s throat a second later. The noise he makes at the tight heat is far from dignified but he’s too turned on to care right now and he knows he won’t last long after already having one orgasm tonight. Fetch slides off the couch and spoons up behind Delsin. Eugene hears the sound of his zipper being undone and a second later, Delsin moans and the vibrations make Eugene jerk beneath him and shove deeper.

He comes before Delsin does and without much warning. His come spills from Delsin’s mouth and over his lips and he collapses back against Fetch’s chest as he gasps for breath. There’s a desperate, pained look in his eyes and Eugene can’t help but slip off the couch and press their lips together to let him know how fucking proud he is of what Delsin gave him because he can’t quite find the words. Delsin comes as he starts to cry, coating Fetch’s hand and Eugene’s stomach.

Fetch gives his dick one more slow stroke before releasing him, arms wrapping around his stomach and bracing him as Eugene kisses him even more breathless. Eugene’s the first to move after that, getting to his feet and pulling his sweats up as Fetch tucks Delsin’s dick back in his pants. Delsin is limp and boneless against her. It takes some poking and prodding to get him up and Eugene gives Fetch a grateful smile before half dragging Delsin to the bathroom for a shower.

He’s read a lot about the kinkier side of stuff even though he’s been too chickenshit to try it on his own, so he knows getting Delsin warm is a good first step, as is letting him know he did a good job. Words feel far away though as he guides them into the shower. He sticks to worshipping Delsin’s body with slow touches as he soaps him up and rinses him down under the warm spray. Delsin lists into him as he works. He presses sloppy kisses to Eugene’s neck and protests with noises instead of words any time there’s distance between them.

Once they’re dry and dressed, they head to Delsin’s room which they share most nights. Fetch is already waiting, curled up on the left side. Eugene is usually in the middle but tonight he pushes Delsin into bed first and Delsin just goes, pliant and content. Eugene knows this is supposed to be mostly about making sure Delsin is good after what they did, but that doesn’t stop him from cuddling up against Delsin’s chest.

“How you two feeling?” Fetch asks.

“Good,” they both say.

Eugene snorts and rubs his face against Delsin’s shirt, heedless of smudging his glasses. He hesitates a moment before speaking.

“It was nice, having control of you like that. I’ve felt so out of control all day, so it was…nice,” Eugene says.

“I just liked being good for you,” Delsin says. His lips brush the top of Eugene’s hair as he speaks. “Giving you everything.”

Eugene curls tighter around him. “You’re so good to me. More than I…”

Fetch squeezes his hand and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. They understand.

 

-.-

 

Two days later, Eugene is pardoned of his crimes under the condition that he restored the files he erased regarding himself to the government. He does so, because he doesn’t have much of a choice. Elena tells him not to bother to try hiding anything because they’d be pouring over every inch to make sure it lines up with what they had. It bothers him to do so, but not as much as the press. After all, his mother was incapable of taking anything close to the high road.

His desire to have a restraining order against her was in every newspaper and blog.

" _Distraught Mother Seeks Reconciliation”_

_“Does prison damage the ability to form healthy relationships?”_

_"Inside A Child Conduit’s Torture”_

_“Eugene Sims: A ticking time bomb? Experts say yes”_

He cuts himself off from the data streams and throws himself into Delsin’s school instead, training some of the more difficult kids on emotional control. For all the things that were wrong about Curdun Cay, Augustine had trained them well. She’d pushed for proper discipline and technique in her training, not just repression. Meditation was important, and unlike Fetch or Delsin, he knew how hard it was to be a kid and sit still and think about nothing, especially when you were far away from home.

“Eugene, can you talk to Evelyn before lights out tonight?” Delsin asks.

They’re sitting in the staff break room eating Chinese take out Kuo had dropped off on her way out of town with Fetch. They had another government contract job. Eugene had looked into it the night before and found nothing to be worried about so off they’d gone.

“What about?” Eugene asks.

Delsin frowns and leans back in his chair. “She hurt her parents when her powers showed up. She thinks she’s some of monster even though her parents have visited her plenty and I can’t seem to make her realize that no one here thinks that about her.”

"And you think I’m a good person for her to talk to?” Eugene asks with a raises eyebrow.

“I think you understand it better than me,” Delsin says. “I don’t…get where the idea comes from. You do.”

Eugene pushes the food around the Styrofoam container. “I can try. I’m not sure I’ll be able to say the right thing though.”

"We’re not exactly trained professionals,” Delsin says. “Miguel is looking into hiring some therapists and stuff but there isn’t really anyone who you know…specializes in this shit. It’s not exactly the most rewarding field apparently.”

“Surprise,” Eugene mutters. “But yeah, I can try and talk to her. What’s her power again?”

“Oil,” Delsin says. “She blinded her mom.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

Eugene finishes off his food and heads back to the living quarters while Delsin sets the security. He starts with the floor he usually covers, saying good night and answering any questions before locking them in their rooms for the night. Out of all of them, he’s the farthest from nurturing. That doesn’t seem to bother the kids though. If anything, they’re comforted by how awkward he can be.

Evelyn’s room is on the top floor where the newer kids are. Eugene travels through the Cloud-run lock systems up to her floor, reviewing her file as he goes. At 12, she’s one of the oldest Conduits here. She’s just a year younger than he was when he’d killed for the first time on accident. He tries to remember how he’d felt then. It feels too distant, like it happened to someone else entirely.

When he knocks on the door frame, she looks up from the book she’s reading. He recognizes it instantly. It’s the third book in the novelization for the newest Heaven’s Hellfire expansion pack.

“Hey, sorry. Delsin’s doing another floor tonight so you get me,” he says. “Can I uh…come in?”

“Sure.” Evelyn slides towards the head of her bed and moves her red, loosely braided hair over one shoulder as she folds her legs beneath her.

“You’re still pretty new yeah?” Eugene asks as he sits at the foot of the bed

"Yeah. Only been a week.” She doesn’t look at him, instead staring at the back cover of the book in her lap.

“My first week at Curdun Cay sucked,” he says.

“You trying to say I should be grateful I’m here?” she asks.

"Nah. It’s prettier and nicer but it’s still a cage,” Eugene says. He’s pretty sure this is not the pep talk he’s supposed to be giving but he’s not sure how to lie. “Sorry. Maybe that’s not comforting to hear.”

“No, not really,” she says, frustrated. “But it’s better than what other people say. Besides, it’s better for me to be here. I can’t hurt anyone else if I’m locked up.”

“We’ll teach you to control it,” Eugene says. “I promise. You’re not going to hurt your parents again, or your friends, or even the people who make you mad. By the time your court case is settled, you’ll be in complete control.”

“Doesn’t give my mom her eyes back,” she says. Her book slides down and onto the bed as her knees curl up to her chest.

"No, it won’t,” Eugene says. “But your mom forgave you right? She still loves you?”

“She shouldn’t,” Evelyn says.

Eugene sighs. “Have you met Fetch?”

“The neon girl? Yeah. She’s cool,” Evelyn says, perking up a bit.

“We were in Curdun Cay together,” Eugene says. “And I hurt her a lot back then because I wasn’t in control, and after we were released, she said she forgave me and just wanted to be my friend.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I had to learn to forgive myself for what I’d done, because she already had. And that’s where you’re at now, you know? Your mom still loves you and forgave you for being out of control. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”

Evelyn sniffs and then starts to cry, shoulders shaking as she wraps her arms tight around her legs and buries her face in her knees. Eugene bites the inside of his cheek and shifts closer.

“I’m sorry, maybe you uh…weren’t ready to hear that,” he says.

He’s not expecting her to throw herself at him and start crying into his hoodie, but he’s a little relieved. This way he doesn’t have to say anything. He just has to hold her and wait for her to stop crying. Delsin steps into the room a moment later but Eugene waves him off. It takes her awhile to calm down but Eugene doesn’t mind waiting. He cried for weeks when he first showed up at Curdun Cay; he didn’t learn lessons well back then. It’s better for her to get it out in her own time.

“S-Sorry,” she says, sniffing hard and wiping her nose. She doesn’t leave her spot curled up against him.

“It’s okay,” Eugene says. “I get it. This isn’t the greatest time of your life.”

“I wanna call my mom,” she says.

Eugene shifts, fishing his phone out of his jeans. “What’s her name? I’ll call her.”

“Lauren Jenkins,” she says.

Eugene surfs through the data streams until he finds a Lauren Jenkins with a Conduit daughter and then rings her home phone. She answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Jenkins. This is Eugene Sims. I work with your daughter. We’re about to do lights out but she said she wanted to talk to you so I figured I’d uh…give you some time to talk to each other?”

“Of course, please!”

Eugene passes the phone off and that’s all the encouragement Evelyn needs to detach herself from his side. She starts chattering immediately, face lighting up. Seeing her like this, he supposes it’s no wonder the guilt within her runs so deep. He didn’t love his bullies, and he hadn’t cared all that much about the Conduits he’d hurt in Curdun Cay back then either because he hadn’t felt much of anything. Sure he’d felt guilt after but…it wasn’t really the same, no matter what Delsin thought.

“Does she have your phone?” Delsin asks, appearing in a puff of smoke beside him.

“Yeah, she wanted to talk to her mom,” Eugene says. “I think it’d be good if she spoke to her every day. She’s having a hard time forgiving herself.”

Delsin rests his chin on Eugene’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping. I wouldn’t have known what to do or say.”

Eugene leans back against him. “I just don’t want any of these kids turning out like I did. I don’t like this place or this solution, but I want to make sure they don’t end up traumatized and scarred.”

"I wish there was a better option too, you know?” Delsin says. He tugs Eugene further into the hallway to give Evelyn and themselves privacy. “I don’t want to become the next Augustine, but people aren’t just going to let them walk. Not yet. Not now.” He shakes his head, a bitter smile on his lips. “I just wish progress wasn’t trading one cage for a prettier one with each generation.”

“I’m sorry,” Eugene says. “I know I’ve been the one saying they’re the same and that’s…true but it’s still an improvement and I shouldn’t have made it seem like it wasn’t.”

“Thanks.” Delsin kisses his forehead. “You gonna be okay on your own tonight?”

“Yeah,” Eugene says. “Enjoy your evening with Betty. I’ve got this.”

Delsin steals a proper kiss before disappearing.

 

-.-

 

Eugene, in all his experience, had not come across a system he couldn’t break open. He didn’t have much finesse when it came to getting in, but he was good at covering his tracks and mounting a defense that no one had yet gotten through. Since he’d been out of Curdun Cay, no one had come close to getting in. But in the middle of the night, as he browses the web on his laptop while keeping an eye on the security monitors, his digital alarms are tripped for the first time.

He’s put himself into his system after all. He’s his computer and his computer is him and while he hasn’t wired himself or his system to alert his body every time there’s an attempt, he has programmed it to let him know when there’s a serious threat. He feels like this is a serious threat. He feels this like a knife to his temple and he crumples forward off the chair. Pain shoots up his knees from hitting the cement but it barely registers because he’s more focused on shooting a text off to Delsin and then vanishing into his computer screen.

What’s there is an all out assault. It’s mass scale too, not just DDoS or a host of viruses. It’s hacking, actively. Someone was trying to break through his actual coding, or rather, multiple someones. He should be concerned. Instead, he’s almost giddy because it’s the first time he’s been challenged, truly, in the digital field.

Eugene lets himself fall into his code and go to work. Most hackers develop their own programming to aid them as they break into whatever software they want access to. Others borrow the programming of old hacks. Either way, it’s too slow to keep up with Eugene. Eugene doesn’t program anything. He _is_ the program, and once he’s in it himself instead of letting it work on its own, he can rewrite code faster than he’s consciously aware of.

Still, it’s a challenge. As soon as Eugene wraps up one area, another’s on the verge of collapsing. If this were one on one, he’d have wrapped it up in less than a minute. As it is, he stretches himself as thin as he dares to work against it. He senses Delsin’s presence in his system a moment later. For a terrifying second, their consciousness’s tumble together before separating back out, but it’s easy then for Delsin to understand what he’s trying to do. Delsin doesn’t take to this aspect of the video power all that well. Last time he’d tried it, he’d ended up in Miguel’s office in California, but Eugene already has the systems in place, he just needs Delsin to watch them.

Delsin’s activity gives him a chance to start latching on to one of the sources. It’s hard to trace. The signal bounces, as it should with anyone capable of mounting an attack like this. He locks onto the host and starts in on its firewall next. This is what he excels at. Where other hackers need code and programming, Eugene just need sheer force of will. He gathers his power close and sends it out, shattering the defenses before plunging into the vulnerable machine.

He absorbs as much information as he can, sending it back across the connection to his own databases before manifesting himself outside the person’s screen. The hacker is a black woman, legs folded beneath her where she sits in a beanbag chair with her keyboard in her lap and a triple monitor set up on a low coffee table in front of her. She doesn’t notice him, too intent on recovering from his attack. Her hair is in tight braids close to her scalp and then flowing down her shoulders, a natural black color that tapers into neon green at the bottom, and he can see an array of piercings in her left ear that shine in the light of her monitors against her dark skin.

“Hey, so you can give up because I’ve already downloaded all of your data onto one of my isolated servers,” Eugene says.

“Shit!”

She throws her keyboard down and spins around and up onto her feet, taser in her hands. Eugene holds up his hands, placating. It doesn’t seem to help at all.   

“Hey, you’re the one hacking into me so if anyone should be pointing weapons, it’s me,” he says.

Her lip curls but she pockets it nonetheless.

“Who hired you?” he asks.

“You have all my files, why don’t you find out yourself?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest.

“Because I have to go find all your other hacking friends tonight and I’d rather not waste time so either tell me now and save us both a headache, or I destroy everything in this row of servers behind me and hunt them all down one by one anyways,” Eugene says. He’s surprised by his own words. They scare him, exuding a cruelty he thought he’d left behind.

“You Conduits are a fucking piece of work,” she says. “Fine. Diane Sims. She tried to hide her identity, but my crew works for no one we don’t know.”

“Figures,” Eugene says. “Well, I’d suggest calling off your team. I don’t want to go and visit all of them, but I will.”

“We can replace data. You don’t think we don’t have our own shit back up offline?” She steps closer to him and Eugene can’t help but waver because the alternative doesn’t bare entertaining. “I told you her name ‘cause I’ve got no loyalty to shady government reps, but I suggest you stop making threats that don’t matter.”

Eugene swallows and then reaches a hand out, drawing data from her screen and then shoving her back before holding a pixelated sword between them. Fear enters her eyes then. It’s enough to make Eugene’s stomach roll and he lets the sword fade away a moment later, figuring his point has been made. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, not when he can always run instead.

“Just leave me alone. Please,” he says. “You can keep working if you think it’s worth it, but you’re not getting through.”

The woman sighs and drops her arms. “Whatever. Your mom paid us half up front anyways so we’ll call it a day.”      

She turns back to the computer and picks up her keyboard off the floor long enough to send off a few messages. Moments later, the anxiety and feeling of shaking out of his skin that he’s felt since the first alarm was tripped vanishes and he can’t help but go to his knees, body weak. The woman curses and kneels beside him.

“Shit, are you okay?” she asks.

“You hacked my shit!” He can’t help how shrill his voice gets, because really, what was this woman on, coming and asking to help when she’d caused the problem.

“Yeah, but you’re a person-“

“No, I’m a Conduit! Connected to my computer and my system!” His arms give out next and he groans, rolling onto his back as pain pulses through him. It’s familiar in the worst way. The attack is gone, but this throb of pain is the feedback loop of having his powers ricochet back into him as if the power suppressors had been clamped back on his hands.

“Okay, okay what do I do, how do I help?”

“Phone, in my pocket,” he says through gritted teeth.

She grabs it and hands it to him but his body hurts too much to take it from her.

“Hold it in front of me,” he says.

She does as she says and he forces part of himself through his phone and across the data stream to Delsin’s phone.

“Hey, where are you? The hacking stopped but I can’t find you anywhere.”

“Follow my phone. I can’t move well.”

“Fuck, hold on Eugene.”

He’s flung back into his body abruptly, body curling in on itself like a poked spider.

“I didn’t realize,” the woman says. “I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have taken this job if I had known it would do this to you.”

Eugene flings a hand out and she grabs it instinctively. He clings to it and closes his eyes, rooting himself to the feel of her skin against his to stop himself from exploding into pixels just to escape the pain. He’s worked so hard since Delsin and Fetch were released to stay in this form. He’s not going to backslide. Not for this.

“Get the fuck away from him.”

The last time Eugene heard Delsin sound like that he had been Seattle.

“He won’t let me go,” the woman says, tugging her hand.

Delsin kneels beside him and pries his hand open, letting Eugene latch onto him instead. “Bring your monitor over, now.”

There’s a lot of noise then and Eugene kind of zones out, at least until a monitor is dropped in front of his face. Delsin guides his hand up and sinks it into the screen. Data rushes in, cool and fast and spreading through his body, calming his over excited nerves and coaxing his limbs to go limp. He’s not sure how long they’re there, but when Delsin pulls his hand back, he feels like he can breath again.

“Holy fuck,” he croaks.

“Ronnie, get us some water,” Delsin says.

“Right of course,” the woman says.

Delsin helps Eugene sit up, keeping a protective arm around him. “Ronnie filled me in. Your mom doesn’t know when to quit.”

“Of course not,” Eugene says.

Ronnie returns to the room with a plastic cup of water and sits down on the hard floor across from them as she offers it up. Delsin takes it and feeds Eugene slow sips.

“We’re going to need everything you’ve got,” Eugene says. “Anything she told you or asked you for, any proof that it was her. I’m trying to file a restraining order against her so it might help.”

“I’ll be real with you, I don’t think a restraining order is gonna stop a woman like that,” Ronnie says. “She hired us. She means business.”

“Who even are you?” Eugene asks. “What hacker group?”

“Neon48,” Ronnie says. “We’re a-“

“Sect that broke away from Anonymous in 2016,” Eugene finishes. “I read about you. Grey hat hackers for hire but way more centralized than any other group. You all know each other and no one is allowed in unless all personal information is given to the group.”

“Keeps us honest,” she says. “Look, we took the job because we wanted the truth, she just paid us to get it. If we’d known it would actually, physically hurt you, we never would have done it, I swear.”

“My testimony is public record,” Eugene says. “How about you look there if you want the truth?”

“She thought you were hiding something and wanted us to find out what,” Ronnie says. “Obviously we underestimated you and we shouldn’t have dug in the first place. Lesson learned. If you’ve got any secrets, it’s not worth knowing.”

“I still kind of want to punch you,” Delsin says. “Just to make sure it’s a good lesson.”

“That’s fair. I’d want to too if I were you,” Ronnie says. “But look…Neon48 has a brand, and that brand is exposing the truth when it needs to be exposed. I don’t think we have anything here with you. The bigger story is a government official hiring a hacking group to dig up dirt on her own son. I’ll run it by the 48s and see if we can help you at all with getting her off your back.”

“Why should I trust you?” Eugene asks.

“Well, you do have all my data,” she says. “You can do what you want with it if I mess up.”

“Alright. Don’t come after me again and we have a deal,” Eugene says. He pushes himself to his feet, wincing as his body protests and flickers out of existence for a moment. Delsin gets up and wraps an arm around his waist, taking his weight.

“I definitely won’t,” Ronnie says. “Your defenses are wicked crazy. Maybe we could work with you sometime.”

“And this conversation is over,” Delsin says. “You want our help? Ask for it before doing shit like this.”

Eugene nods his agreement. “What he said.”

“Okay, fair.”

“Can you make it back to our place?” Delsin asks Eugene.

“No,” Eugene says. “I can’t get in a computer right now or I might not come back out.”

“Fantastic.” Delsin looks over at Ronnie. “Where the hell are we?”

“Hudsonville, Nebraska,” Ronnie says.

“Shit. Alright, we’ll grab a motel and I’ll call Miguel to watch the school,” Delsin says.

“You go back. I can stay here,” Eugene says. “I’ll hitch a ride through a library computer or something tomorrow.”

“I am not leaving you in the same town as her,” Delsin says.

“I’m a hacker, not an axe murderer,” Ronnie says.

“Delsin, just go. As soon as I feel up to it, I’ll be back,” Eugene says.

“This is a terrible idea,” Delsin says.

“Go,” Eugene says. “You have to have someone there. I can take care of myself.”

“Alright, alright,” Delsin says. “I’ll call you every few hours.”

“Deal,” Eugene says.

Delsin vanishes through the nearest monitor.

“Alright, where’s the cheapest motel?” Eugene asks.

“You can just stay here,” Ronnie says.

Eugene sighs. He’s too tired to leave if he’s being realistic, plus, there’s nothing Ronnie could do to him at this point so the risk is pretty low. “Fine. Sure. I’m tired.”

“Here, I’ll help you to my room.”

Eugene leans against her as she hauls him down the hallway to a small, cramped room. The floor is covered in clothes and torn apart computer parts so oddly, Eugene feels right at home as he sits down on the bed. Ronnie perches on an office chair in the corner, folding one leg beneath her.

“So why can’t you go back through the monitor like Delsin?” she asks.

Eugene shrugs. “I’ve had difficulty holding my physical form in the past. After what I just went through, I don’t know if I’d be able to hold it very easily when I got back, so I’d rather rest a bit first.”

“I won’t say sorry again because it won’t help,” Ronnie says.

“It’s fine, you were doing what you do to survive. Knowing my mother, she probably offered you money you couldn’t refuse,” Eugene says. It’s nicer than he has to be, but he’s too tired of fighting. “So Neon48. Tell me about them, more than what you can read on Wikipedia. I’m curious.”

“Not much to tell,” Ronnie says. “The original 48 broke off because of the disaster that was the 2016 election. Most of the hacking groups out there cared more about preserving the racist status quo than they did actually doing something meaningful.”

“I knew that part,” Eugene says. “I just figured they disbanded like all the other sects have. They never seem to last long.”

“47 members ended up either dead or in jail for organizing protests when they started rounding up Conduits after killing Cole,” Ronnie says. “The remaining founding member gathered 47 more black women hackers to replace them and continue the work, and now we mostly continue with what we started but with side jobs to support ourselves.”

“Huh. I guess my data would be pretty tempting then,” Eugene says.

Ronnie leans forward on her knees. “You do know you’re the only prime Conduit who can manipulate data right? We downloaded everything Delsin dropped during his little crusade across the country, and we’ve been gathering data since then and there is no other record of a Conduit with your powers.”

“Thanks for the ego boost, I guess,” Eugene says with a nervous laugh.

“I’m just saying, having access to your files is more than tempting,” Ronnie says. “But…it wasn’t right of us.”

“I’ll check out your work when I get back,” Eugene says. “Depending on what I think, maybe I can at least bolster your encryption and other defenses, but they won’t be as good as the ones I have. I’m not going to tie myself to your networks like that.”

“If we had something even a fraction as good as what you have, we’d be able to do a lot more,” she says. “The fucking assholes that make up the rest of the hacking groups wouldn’t be able to threaten us as easily.”

“Don’t get too excited.” Eugen curls up on the bed and closes his eyes. “Haven’t decided yet.”

 

-.-

 

When he wakes up, Ronnie is curled up on the floor in a deep sleep. He checks his phone but there’s no sign that she tried to interfere with anything and a quick check through of his servers shows all his security has self-repaired itself and is up and running smoothly. He heads back to the main room and takes a deep breath. The thought of dissolving into pixels is…less than ideal. He has to get back though.

Bleeding into the monitor is easy. He tracks himself back to the school and then wills himself to leave but he just…can’t. There’s something deep inside him, instinctive, that balks at the idea of leaving the safety of the cool machine. Nothing can hurt him in here, at least not physically. It’d hurt if he came out of the computer, but if he didn’t leave, he’d never feel the physical toll on his body of what it took to keep his system protected. But if he doesn’t leave, he’ll never kiss Fetch again, or smell the deep woodsy scent that surrounds Delsin as long as he avoids the city.

It’s that thought that gets him to leave. He forms slowly from his feet upwards in the middle of his computer room back at home. Delsin catches him when his knees buckle. Eugene relaxes into his grip, holding him close. Delsin rubs his back and that’s nice too but all he can really focus on is Delsin’s smoky smell and how comforting it is.

“Can we just…be together for awhile?” Eugene asks.

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

 

-.-

 

_On August 12 th, a broker reached out to Neon48 requesting we hack into the computer systems of Eugene Sims. While we value the truth like anyone else, we thought this request was suspicious and looked into who the actual buyer of our services was. Representative Diane Sims requested our help through a sock email account, seen here. Unfortunately, she had left it hooked up to her actual email. What is this, 2002?_

_"Criminal activity by our government will not be tolerated. Criminal activity by the government against citizens will be exposed. As for Eugene Sims, Neon48 stands behind him and will not be persuaded by material wealth to attempt to rob him of his right to privacy._

_“Call your representatives. Let’s reduce the number of corrupt politicians in Washington by one.”_

-.-

 

The judge approves the restraining order without Eugene or Diane needing to show up to court. It’s not surprising given how in the two days since Neon48 dropped their video, the news cycle hadn’t stopped talking about it. It’s only increased media attention for him though, so he avoids the school and the reservation, sticking to old haunts in Seattle that he’d developed when Delsin, Fetch, and Kuo had been in jail.

The city is protective of its heroes, Delsin especially, but since Eugene’s face is now known, he’s hoping that protection will extend to him. He garners a few looks when he steps into one of the cyber cafes he used to frequent. No one makes a comment though. He orders his coffee and heads for a booth in the back with his laptop and sits down facing the door. A man enters and seems to contemplate the menu for a moment before holding his phone up in Eugene’s direction, but before Eugene can do anything, a woman stands up and plucks the phone right out of his hands. He’s too far away to hear the discussion, but the man leaves after the woman hands his phone back. Eugene relaxes into his chair and sticks his headphones in his ears.

He’s been combing through Ronnie’s files the last few days. She has everything he and Delsin dumped into the Internet neatly categorized and marked as reviewed or not reviewed. Like Elena had so many years ago, she’d picked up on the idea that there was a missing Conduit in all the data from the DUP. Once he verifies that she hasn’t made any other connections, he wipes the files from his own servers. There’s nothing in what he dumped back then that would compromise them after all, and if she wasn’t making any further connections, they were safe.

It takes him longer to locate the information she has on Neon48’s member identities. The encryption on it is the best he’s seen – way better than what she’d been using on the rest of her things. He could get through it with brute force, but he’s curious on if he could break into on his own so he starts that way, fingers clicking on the keyboard. The encryption seems to reset every three minutes. He’s on his fifth try when someone taps his shoulder.

It’s the woman from earlier. She’s black, and shorter than he is, with a neon blue Mohawk that stands up a good few inches from her otherwise shaved head.

“It’s some solid security, huh?” she says, lips curling up in a smirk.

He raises his eyebrows. “What, you guys stalking me now?”

“Stalking would imply I followed you,” she says She moves around him and slides into the chair opposite of him. “I’ve been frequenting this café a lot longer than you Teen Angel.”

Eugene lets his fingers bleed through the screen. He gathers his energy and then pushes it through the encryption, twining himself around the code and then squeezing until it breaks like a rusted lock. “I was trying it the old fashioned way. I’ve got it now though, Imani, is it?” He pulls his hand out.

“Ronnie wasn’t kidding. You’re a piece of work,” she says, but holds out her hand for him to shake. “Pleasure to meet you. Sorry for the whole hacking thing, not that it matters given that you kicked our asses.”

“It’s fine, I guess,” Eugene says. The fact that he learned his skills whether he wanted them or it goes unspoken. “So is there something you wanted?”

"Mostly, I just wanted to talk,” Imani says. “And also I wanted to try and convince you to help us.”

“We’ll see,” Eugene says, turning his attention back to Ronnie’s files. “I don’t know much about what you’ve done, and I’m certainly not going to help you do anything illegal, but if I like what you’ve done, it’s not too much of a hardship to encrypt your things better.”

“But you’d always be able to get in,” Imani says.

“As long as data exists the way it does, I’ll always be able to get in anywhere,” Eugene says. “That’s just…how it is.”

“The world is in real trouble if it pisses you off huh? I guess we’re lucky there aren’t any other Conduits like you,” Imani says with a shake of her head.

Eugene grimaces. “At the risk of sounding like a cliché, even if another Conduit could control data, there wouldn’t be another like me. Conduits don’t have infinite power.”

“You can certainly do a lot,” Imani says, eyebrow croaking up.

"Yeah, I spent years being forced to absorb Ray Field Radiation,” Eugene says. “It makes Conduits stronger, and it’s not exactly an easy resource to come by.”

“Unless you head down south,” Imani says.

“There’s a difference between the raw stuff and what we came into contact with,” Eugene says. “A Conduit’s powers expand through physical stressors and Ray Field Radiation. Without both of those things, no Conduit is gonna come close to those of us who came out of Curdun Cay.”

“Makes you wonder what Augustine was trying to accomplish, beefing you all up like that,” Imani says. She looks eager now, but Eugene has no interest in whatever rabbit hole she’s looking to jump down.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” he says. “I just want to move on with my life. Most Conduits do.”

“That’s a waste of your talent,” Imani says.

“Maybe, but I think I’ve done enough. More than this country deserves,” he says, turning his attention back to his laptop. “If you can get your group to agree, I’ll encrypt your files so no one can get in, at least not without a lot of manpower and processing power, and if they get in at that point-“

“It wouldn’t matter anyways,” Imani says. “Thanks. And if you ever wanna do something big again, you know how to find us.”

She moves to stand, but there’s another question on Eugene’s mind.

“Wait. Why are you trusting me? You’re willing letting me have access to all of your files.”

Imani glances at his laptop. “You have Ronnie’s files and you could have dumped all that info on the Internet while we were talking, but you didn’t.” She shrugs and slides the rest of the way out of her seat. “I know a good person when I see one.”

The words echo around in Eugene’s head until the next morning.

 

-.-

 

The media furor dies down. It kind of blows Eugene’s mind because he knows nothing lasts forever, but he doesn’t expect to his mother to give up and let the controversy die even if she was currently locked down in her DC house after paying bail. It doesn’t drag on though. Delsin’s work has mostly faded from constant public scrutiny as well, only garnering attention when one or more of the many court cases they have has any significant change.

After so much chaos, Eugene doesn’t trust the calm.

Which…is why maybe he’s spending so much time with Imani. He doesn’t do anything illegal, doing his best to stay clean as a whistle, but after he gets Neon48’s servers encrypted and protected he keeps hanging around and watches how their various projects come together. Imani does a lot of the field work in Seattle. Most of the tech giants are down in Silicon Valley, but that doesn’t mean Seattle doesn’t have its fair share and with all that tech comes secrets.

“I just don’t get how you stay out of this,” Imani says one night over cold pizza in her apartment. “Isn’t it tempting?”

“Infinitely so,” Eugene says. “I just want to be left alone even more.”

“For a guy who wants to be left alone, you sure are spending a lot of time with me,” Imani says with a raised eyebrow. She turns in her computer chair back towards her laptop, typing out a message to one of the other members with one hand. “Not that I mind. You’re a technological genius and I like picking your brain.”

Eugene sets his half-eaten slice aside. “I guess it’s like…I have an unfair advantage. If I interfered with things, I could change things faster than they’re supposed to and that could backfire in no time. Plus, I don’t have the drive other people do, that you guys all have.”

Imani snorts. “Sure. Says the guy who literally sent angels to save all of those being wrongfully held. He’s got no drive at all to make the world a better place.”

“That was different,” Eugene says. “That was because of Augustine. I knew what she was capable of and I didn’t want things going smoothly for her.”

“But you’re comfortable with another Augustine coming along? Because one will. There’s always someone to take up that role,” Imani says. “That’s why groups like ours have to be so damn vigilant.”

“I just don’t want to make things worse,” Eugene says with a grimace.

Imani gives him a withering look. “Doing nothing is still a choice whether you like it or not. Lots of people did nothing when colonists murdered natives. They did nothing about slavery, about marital rape, about women’s rights, or civil rights. It’s not like oppression is a whole bunch of people calling for subjugation of another race or class or species. It’s a few people making big actions and a lot of people doing nothing to stop it.”

The anger that sleeps in him only to lash out at random surges in his chest again and he bites his cheek to stop himself from saying anything stupid. “I have done a lot more fighting than you have. Neon48 has done a lot of great activism work and made some serious sacrifices in the process, but don’t tell me I need to be doing more for Conduits and try to guilt me for sitting out now. I’ve done a lot and sacrificed a lot, so don’t tell me you’ve done more for Conduits than I have when you have no idea what it is to be one.”

Imani looks like she wants to bite right back but she stops, setting her food aside. “You’re right. I’m just frustrated with people pretending that doing nothing means they’re doing the right thing.”

“So what, you never take a break?” Eugene asks.

Imani looks back towards her computer. “Not really, no.”

“You’re going to burn yourself out like that,” Eugene says. “Like…really fast.”

“At least we’re all doing something though,” she says.

“Sure, but that’s not going to be much use in the long term,” Eugene says. “I didn’t get through Curdun Cay by fighting tooth and nail every step of the way and the people that did broke fast and hard. They were the ones who ended up doing whatever they were told. You guys have to start playing the long game.”

“Maybe.”

Eugene sighs. “I just mean that…when I look through your stuff, you guys are frantic. You expose a lot of small things which are punctuated by the occasional big thing but there’s no coherency to it and it’s not really a surprise that it all gets brushed over.”

“So what do you recommend then?” Imani asks, looking back at him. “If you’re so smart about all of this?”

“Fetch and I received the same training in Curdun Cay,” Eugene says. “We were all taught how to undermine a government or a movement, build a trail of information and make people doubt those with authority. If you want people to actually do something with the facts that you leak, that’s what you have to do. People are stupid. You have to guide them.”

Imani raises an eyebrow. “You’re a little dictator in the making.”

The words are like a punch to the gut. It’s a stark reminder of why he shouldn’t be getting involved in any of this because he can do too much damage. He can rationalize just about anything to himself.

“I could be, and so could anyone else Augustine trained,” Eugene says after a moment.

“We need someone like you,” Imani says. “Not as a hacker, but as someone to point out what we could be doing better. Like a consultant.”

“That’s really not a good idea,” Eugene says.

“Then why have you kept coming around?” Imani asks.

Eugene shifts in his seat. “I shouldn’t be. I’ve been curious about all this but…it’s too tempting to get involved.”

“You’re scared,” Imani says. It’s not a question.

“You should be too,” Eugene says. “Just uh…let me know if you need anything else encrypted or something like that. But I should probably not come back.”

“Man, they’re going to be so pissed that I scared you off,” Imani says.

“If it helps, tell them I scared myself off,” Eugene says. “Plus, I don’t want to be a tool for anyone else, not anymore.”

“We have the same goals,” Imani says. “You wouldn’t be a tool.”

Eugene shakes his head. “No, we have different ones. You want truth and justice and all that honestly really great stuff. You should all keep pursuing that, just not with me.”

“So what do you want then? If our goals aren’t the same,” Imani asks.

Eugene shakes his head. “I don’t really know. I don’t want to know.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Imani says. “Then lets agree to this. I’ll take your advice and start taking breaks so I don’t burn myself out and I’ll take your critiques to the others on how we can do our work better. But you need to stop running away from yourself. I think you’re scared that you want something terrible but I’ve got a good gut instinct. You’re a good person.”

“I guess I can agree to that deal,” Eugene says. “Though I’m not all that keen on it.”

“Knowing ourselves is scary,” Imani says. “But if you don’t, you’re just setting yourself up to make mistakes.”

She was right, but Eugene wishes she wasn’t.

 

-.-

 

Delsin still goes to therapy every week. It’s been working for him, but Eugene knows it’s not the same situation for either of them – the trauma they faced and how they faced it. He only ever had himself for years. No therapist was going to know his brain better than he did no matter how much trauma training they had. It wasn’t like he was broken beyond repair. He just had no way of articulating how he felt, especially to a stranger.

But still, Imani was right. It’d been months since Delsin and the others had returned and he still wasn’t able to actually face the parts of himself he’d been running away from since he got out of Curdun Cay. Part of it was timing. First it was finding Kuo, then uncovering Moya’s plan, then releasing everything, prison, Fetch starting a business, Delsin starting a school…they were all convenient excuses to not think too hard about what had really been bothering him since Curdun Cay. He wasn’t going to be able to run much longer though. Not if he wanted to dom Delsin in bed sometimes and not if he wanted to have relationships where he didn’t keep secrets.

Eugene sighs in frustration and shuts down his computer, grabbing a blanket off his bed and heading for Delsin’s room. He digs out a hoodie that still smells of wood smoke and curls up on the bed, cuddling the hoodie close with the blanket over his head like if he swaddles himself up in comforting items, all his problems will go away. Before, right after Seattle, it had been more than enough. Everything had sucked so much that a little bit of kindness and a warm body in bed had seemed so out of reach that when he got it, he’d been elated. He almost wants to go back to that. Surviving. That hadn’t required deep introspection.

Of course, just trying to survive had sucked too. For a while there, he’d teetered between the good choice, killing himself, and the bad choice, killing every damn DUP officer and Conduit hater. And then Delsin had shown up and given him a third choice. He’d been so fucked up then, if Delsin had pushed him to take another option or pushed him to seek revenge…he would have. Part of him still wants to. Every time he passes a fucking protestor or sees some stupid news clip about how they’re all in danger of extinction from the monsters masquerading as humans, or any time he thinks about his parents for longer than a few seconds, the rage rises up in him again and makes his blood curdle for a moment before fading away. No one good has thoughts like that, no matter what Imani says.

And if he wants to do that to strangers, what makes wanting to put Delsin on his knees and make him cry any better? At the end of the day, even if they both get off on it, Eugene is still fucked in the head. He’s still a person with violent thoughts.

Eugene curls up tighter and buries his face in Delsin’s hoodie, biting his lip hard against the sob building in his chest. It wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have made it out of Seattle at all and it was a fucking mistake trying to be a normal and functioning member of society. He wasn’t. He never would be. He’s a walking time bomb rotating between apathy and violence. But there wasn’t any real solution. All he wanted to do was go back to before and be alone. Not that that had helped him get over anything, but at least then he was only a danger to himself.

He doesn’t notice anyone come home. It isn’t until the blanket is pulled away and Fetch kisses the back of his neck as she spoons up behind him that he has anything close to a coherent thought.

“What’s with the turtle impression?” Fetch asks.

“I…” Eugene doesn’t know how to put it into words. Fetch, who has understood him the most out of anyone, for the first time feels distant and foreign, like she could never comprehend what’s going on in his brain. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean?” The arm around his waist tightens.

“I’m not good Fetch. I’m going to hurt someone.”

“Why do you say that?” she asks. She doesn’t seem shocked by the admission, but then Fetch had done her fair share of violent revenge seeking.

“Just…” He shakes his head. “What would you have done? If Delsin had told you to keep going after those dealers and murdering them instead of trying to change you?”

“Where’s this coming from?” Fetch asks, tone wary as she sits up and pulls on Eugene to make him sit up as well.

“Does it matter?” Eugene asks, wiping his nose on his jacket sleeve.

“Yes, Eugene, it does,” Fetch says. “Did you do something?”

“No, no, I just…think about it, probably more than I should,” Eugene says. “I’m not a good person Fetch. If things had been different, I think I would have killed a lot of people back in Seattle and a part of me still wants to because of how terrible they are.” His hand glitches out of existence for a moment as they curl into fists instinctively.

"That’s…okay, let’s think about this,” Fetch says. She reaches to cover his hands with her own. “How long have you been this…angry?”

“I always have been, I’ve just ignored it. We’ve had other crap to deal with,” Eugene says. “I just feel like it’s a matter of time before I snap, like all of this has been some weird pause on real life and eventually I’ll go back to being what I’m supposed to be.”

"And what’s that?”

Eugene squeezes his eyes shut. The judge had asked him that too, what Augustine’s goal was with him and why she had trained him more vigorously than anyone else. The answer is obvious, even if she never said it to him directly. It was the whole reason he and Fetch had been put on the stupid transport to begin with. Eugene was, and still is if he wanted to be, the ultimate threat to national security. He could be the next Cole MacGrath, crafting a large form and devastating cities the way he had. She’d spent years building up his rage and his anger, confident that he would turn it on the system and not her and if he thinks about it, he would have done just that given enough time.

If Delsin had pushed him another way, or not shown up at all, Eugene would have done anything he could to bring the world to its knees for what it had done to him and everyone like him.

The problem is, part of him still wants to. Sure, that part was deeper inside, buried under the desire to be good enough for Delsin and Fetch and Betty. But it’s still there. That desire is still in him and if it is then everything else is…everything else is just a lie. A charade.

“You know what. Augustine didn’t just physically train us, she made us hate everyone who’d ever done us wrong,” Eugene says. “It’s no accident you and I were on that transport when she was losing her grip on power.”

“Christ, Eugene, you think that’s real?” Fetch asks. “You think that you have to be what she tried to turn you into?”

Eugene glitches away from her to stand beside the bed, pacing. “It’s not about choosing to be that, it’s acknowledging that the part she made is still there and it’s not going away and it’s just a matter of time before I snap.”

“That’s not how it works.”

Both Eugene and Fetch look towards the bedroom door where Kuo stands, leaning against the door frame.

“We all have our trauma, and we’ve all had people manipulate us to be what they needed,” Kuo says. “I’ve done it to people and they’ve done it to me and sometimes it works but time and time again, we fail to be what they want no matter how hard they try. I was in DUP custody for a long time before that chip, Eugene. Augustine tried to make me her tool too. It didn’t work.”

“That’s because you’re better than any of us,” Eugene says, a little helplessly.

Kuo scoffs. “Hardly. I know that Cole and Nix and myself seem like these larger than life heroes or villains but we’re not. We are…were…just people. I’m not stronger than you, or better, or worse, and we aren’t time bombs meant to kick off a chain of events the lead us to repeating all our mistakes. We have choices, Eugene, we just have to work harder to do the right thing.”

“But we still want to do the wrong thing. That’s messed up, it’s wrong,” Eugene says.

“Who says? You? Or Augustine?” Fetch asks.

“It’s…Augustine told me to hate them, the people who don’t like Conduits, who hate them,” Eugene says, voice shaking. He hadn’t told anyone this, only the judge and Elena, and maybe he hadn’t told anyone because he’d known it would lead to the part of his mind he didn’t want to contemplate. “She said if it weren’t for them she wouldn’t have to do what she did to keep us safe-“

“Eugene, that was not safe!” Fetch says. The look in her eyes is almost manic. “Please tell me you know that, Eugene. What she did was not protection from those who hated us, it was just glorified torture. She could have detained us without weaponizing us, without torturing us and making us do things we never wanted to do until she put those ideas in our heads.”

“But she…” Eugene glitches forward and starts to pace again, unable to stop himself. “If she hated Conduits, wanted us to hurt them, than that means it’s bad because anything Augustine wanted wasn’t good. And now, at least part of me, wants what she wanted then and that makes me just as bad.”

“No it doesn’t,” Fetch says. “It doesn’t, Eugene. Augustine was a fucking mess of a human being but she was still a person. Not everything she likes is inherently bad and not everything she hates is inherently good. Come on, you know the world isn’t this black and white.”

He does, or at least he thought he did. Sometimes, he doesn’t feel nearly as mature as he should be for his age, like he stalled somewhere along the line where everyone else had kept growing and like everything else, he’d been able to ignore it. He can’t now though.

“Eugene,” Kuo says. She crosses the room and grabs his trembling hands, holding them tightly as she meets his eyes. “Augustine took you at the most vulnerable time in your life, the time where any person’s brain is most fragile, and she distorted it and twisted it in hopes that even when she was gone you would fulfill what she wanted. I’ve seen the tactic. I’ve done it before. You aren’t doomed to it though. The NSA, DARPA…we broke people down and remolded them every day and they still could be unpredictable. You are not doomed to what she set you up to be.”

“How can you know that?” Eugene asks. “How do you know I’m like those people and not the ones who ended up doing exactly what you wanted?”

“Because of everything you’ve done since you got out,” Kuo says. “You’ve fought her, you saved people, you exposed everyone’s dirty secrets and are forcing the government to be transparent when they haven’t been in decades. That is the opposite of what she wanted. If her hold on you was as strong as you think it is, don’t you think something would have happened by now?”

“I…”

Kuo tugs at his arms, forcing his eyes back up to hers when he tries to look away. “Why are you so desperate for us to hate you? What does that accomplish?”

Eugene swallows, fingers digging into the hard flesh of Kuo’s distorted hands. He doesn’t know, really. He thought he was right but Kuo easily brushed aside his fears and his reasoning with logic of her own and if he’s so confident to believe he’s right in the face of that logic and reason than…what is it that he’s trying to avoid?

“I guess…I…I wanted to make you leave before you realize what I am and choose to leave,” Eugene says, and as he says it, the truth of it becomes clear to him all at once. “But more than that, I guess I think I don’t deserve to have you stay even if I don’t become everything Augustine wanted me to.”

Kuo releases him, but she doesn’t look satisfied. Far from it. “I know, Eugene. But that voice in your head telling you that you’re worth nothing? It’s lying. We aren’t our mistakes and we aren’t what people tell us to be. But you’re going to have to convince yourself of that on your own because there’s only so much the rest of us can do. It has to come from you too. You have to want it.”

“I do but…” Eugene shakes his head. “You know how you get used to something? And it’s so normal even though you know it sucks, and the idea of leaving it is more terrifying than the idea of it continuing?”

“There’s comfort in stability,” Fetch says. “Even if that stability is killing you. Curdun Cay gave me structure at a time I had none and when I felt like I was out of control and moments away from killing everyone around me. That doesn’t mean Curdun Cay was good or that we shouldn’t have tried to escape.”

“You wanted out,” Eugene says, looking back at her. “I…I didn’t want to leave. She told me I was going to be on that transport and I begged to stay, do you get that? The last thing I wanted was my freedom. At least you still knew what to want.”

“That’s not your fault though!” Fetch runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. “She taught you that her torture was the best you were going to get and that anything outside of it was scary and wrong so of course you’d want to stay and of course you want to stay in this fucked up state of mind because at least then you know what the end game is.” She stands up and grabs his jaw, fingers bruising. “But you don’t get to stay there, okay Eugene? If I have to drag you kicking and screaming to a better place I will because I fucking love you, got it?” She lets go and his chest goes tight when she starts to cry, angry tears she wipes away without looking away from him. “We’re going to fix this. We’re going to help you, all of us. And we’re not leaving you, not again.”

“You can’t promise that,” he says.

“Hell yeah I can,” Fetch says. “I don’t make promises lightly either, so you’re stuck with me. You’ve done so much for all of us and made sure we weren’t alone even in solitary but no one took care of you then and we aren’t taking care of you now. That’s on us. You can’t figure this out on your own.”

Eugene feels like he’s out of words. He doesn’t know what else to say, not when she’s so determined to stay with him no matter how bad it gets. “I…how do we even do this? How do I get better?”

“There’s no manual,” Kuo says. “We all get there our own way, and it’s not like we’re all better without any problems now. The point is figuring out how to cope with our problems and thrive despite them.”

“We don’t have to figure it out right this minute,” Fetch adds. “But…we have to decide we’re not giving up. You’re not just going to go murder every Conduit hater in the world because Augustine wants you to, I’m not going to go on a one-woman rampage and murder every drug dealer, Lucy isn’t going to go back to trying to create a Conduit empire, and Delsin isn’t about to I don’t know, go find every Conduit in the world and absorb their powers before over-throwing every government. We’re not going to be what the world wants us to be. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eugene says.

 

-.-

 

Fetch spares him the hardship of explaining what happened to Delsin. Eugene doesn’t feel much like working through the mess in his head all over again and pick it apart a second time. He’s tired.

“I guess I’m just struggling to understand why you didn’t come to me with any of this,” Delsin says from where he sits on the end of the bed with Eugene. His hands keep clenching, like he’s torn between reaching out and pulling Eugene towards him or maybe…pushing him away.

“I didn’t even know there was something to come to you about, not really,” Eugene says. “I’ve always been good at hiding in my mind even from myself, but after everything with Neon48 I guess I couldn’t hide from the fact that I’m really fucking tempted to just snap. Talking to them just reminded me of how easily I could get what I want.”

Delsin’s expressions pinches into something like disappointment. It hurts more than Eugene had thought it would. This was why he wanted to leave – he didn’t want to have to see with his own eyes how let down Delsin was realizing that Eugene hadn’t turned over a new leaf at all.

"Fuck,” Eugene says, getting off the bed.

His hand glitches when Delsin tries to grab it. Delsin stares up at him, something distraught entering his eyes.

“Eugene, whatever you think I’m thinking right now, I can guarantee you’re wrong,” Delsin says. “I just want you to stay. We can work this out together.”

"What?” Eugene falters.

“I’m mad that we didn’t have this conversation earlier because I feel like you’ve been suffering like this on your own but I’m not mad at you,” Delsin says. “You’re not wrong for this. Or evil. Or whatever it is you’re so worried about.”

Eugene’s knees feel weak. It’s different coming from Delsin, who he’s had up on some pedestal of virtue for months. He knows, of course, that Delsin is just human. But Delsin’s a better human than any of them, and maybe it’s wrong that he’s putting Delsin so high above him, but it’s not like he’s blind and thinks Delsin doesn’t fuck up. It’s just…Delsin doesn’t really want to hurt anyone. If he couldn’t kill Hank after everything he’d done, Delsin was a rock that couldn’t be moved. Having him say that Eugene was fine just the way he was meant…a lot. More than he thought it would.

“Eugene, do you really think that way about yourself? That you’re, I don’t know, less than the rest of us?” Delsin asks. This time when he reaches out, Eugene lets him take his hand.

“I guess. Yeah.” He winces. “Maybe more like I’m holding myself to a high standard I can’t meet.”

Delsin nods. “I do that too. I try and be enough without realizing that I am already. I think maybe it’s the same with you.”

“What, you psychoanalyzing me?” Eugene doesn’t really mean it, and he lets Delsin pull him back onto the bed and into his lap.

“Maybe a little,” Delsin says, flush creeping up his neck. “Just…don’t hide from me okay? Let me know what’s going on in your head because I can’t tell like this. You’re locked down too tight.”

“Sorry.” Eugene tucks his face into Delsin’s neck.

Delsin sighs. “It’s not something you’re supposed to apologize for. Just let me in okay?”

“I’ll try,” Eugene says, eyes sliding shut.

“That’s enough.”

 

-.-

 

Eugene starts writing. It’s Fetch who suggests it.

“I read something about journaling helping prisoners with their anger and like, self-confidence and stuff like that,” Fetch tells him. “Maybe it’s all head shrink bullshit. Can’t hurt though.”

So he writes. Pages and pages, something solid instead of digital. Of course, data had always felt solid to him, but there was something permanent about putting it on paper because in the digital world, everything was breakable and yeah he could burn the paper but that took more work. It was less fragile to him this way. Some days, he writes four or five pages, and other days, he just writes one. For the first time, he can actually see the patterns of his thought like code in a program.

“It’s like finally seeing the circles I’m talking myself in,” Eugene says one night as Delsin flips through his second journal.

“This is really good, you know that?” Delsin sets the journal on the coffee table and tugs Eugene to lean into him on the couch. “I couldn’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” Eugene asks.

“The whole reason I have a therapist is to find this shit, the negative thought patterns and all that,” Delsin says. “But you seem to find them on your own just fine.”

“We’re different people,” Eugene says. “And I really don’t want to see a therapist. It’s a good motivator to do this right so I can actually get through it.”

Delsin squeezes his shoulder. “Are you feeling better?”

Eugene’s lips twist into something between a smile and a frown, his emotions too complicated to make their way into his face properly. “I guess. Kind of. It’s like I know what the problem is and that’s helpful but I don’t have any fucking idea how to fix it. I don’t even know if I want to.”

“Wait what do you mean?”

Eugene pulls back, leaning back against the couch instead of into Delsin. “I mean at least I know this feeling right? I’ve had this my whole life and it sucks but it’s almost…comforting? I don’t know what being better is like.”

"Oh…I guess that makes sense,” Delsin says. “I never really had anything before Seattle so I guess I know what I’m looking to feel like again. I didn’t really think you wouldn’t.”

Eugene chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, thinking. “What is it like? To be happy and not just…hate yourself.”

Delsin gives a nervous sounding left. “Well uh, I guess…okay this is going to come out weird and it’s going to seem like I don’t have a point but I do so just bear with me.”

"To be fair, I’m used to you not making sense,” Eugene says dryly, earning himself a shove.

“Anyways! So back when my mom and dad died, I was really upset for a while. I was a total dickwad and did stupid shit to like get my revenge on the world, but Reggie would always strong arm me back into line, well, sort of. I still did stupid stuff after a few years. It wasn’t because I was miserable though, it started being because I wanted to. I liked tagging stuff and getting tattoos and school was dumb so I skipped class to do stuff I liked instead. And that’s what being happy is I guess. Doing stuff because you want to.” Delsin flushes a little. “Hopefully that made sense.”

Eugene stares up at the ceiling, mulling over Delsin’s words and then selecting his own with care. The last thing he wants to do is alarm him. “I’ve never done that. Even now. And I don’t mean like, I’m not with you or Fetch because I don’t want to be – I do. I’ve wanted to do everything we’ve done, just not because I wanted to be happy but because it gave me something to do other than…”

Delsin goes tense beside him. “Other than what, Eugene?”

“Other than kill myself,” Eugene says, as steady as he can. “It’s not like right after Augustine and everything where I was you know, sort of hoping I’d either get killed or I’d just kill myself. It’s more like I keep waiting to wake up one day and decide I’m done. But when I’m doing things I always have a reason not to do that, even if it’s something stupid like helping Betty with something, or leveling up my character. Nothing I do ever has a point beyond that. Not…really. It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy things though.”

He sneaks a glance over at Delsin who…doesn’t look as freaked out as he thought it would. He’s tense. Eugene can see his fingers tapping along his thigh the way they do when Delsin wants to blurt out what he’s thinking but is trying not to.

“It just makes me sad,” Delsin says after a moment. He looks over at Eugene. “I love you so fucking much and I wish I could just…make you better. You deserve that.”

“I don’t want-“

“It’s not pity,” Delsin says before Eugene can get the words out. “I’m just sad, okay? I wish it wasn’t like this for you and that’s not because I feel bad for you or think you’re some innocent little thing that needs someone to take care of you or protect you”

Eugene chews his lip for a moment. “Thanks. For not pitying me. And for being with me even with all of this.”

Delsin snorts. “It’s not like it’s some hardship for me. Get that idea right out of your head.”

Eugene smiles, stomach warming at the words. “I’ll work on it.”

 

-.-

 

In the end, Eugene compromises. He creates a fake profile on a therapy app on his phone and with Fetch’s help creates a past that would explain the thought patterns he’s discovered in himself. There’s probably something ethically wrong with what he’s doing, but he’s not sure how else to be comfortable talking to a stranger. Plus, he’s always had an easier time when things were digital. Real life was harder.

The thing is, it does help. He’s seen therapy help Delsin so he knows it can, he just never thought it would work for him. Having the barrier of his phone and a false persona helps him be more honest ironically, and that honesty is what must make it work because there’s no way he could have said all of this to another person face to face. The therapist, Kiyoka, is also ruthless. She doesn’t let him retreat into himself without good reason and forces him to confront things he doesn’t want to because it’s too hard. He doesn’t like thinking well of himself.     

“Is it just a self-esteem thing or something else?” Fetch asks.

They’re lying on the floor of her bedroom, passing a joint back and forth. His head rests on her stomach. He’s not sure where Kuo is, and Delsin is at the school per usual. Something about it feels old, familiar, even though the last time he’d felt this at ease, this relaxed with her, had only been a two years ago. He craves that time. When things were simpler.

“I don’t know. It’s like…Augustine was confident and look where that got us. All I can keep thinking about is that fucking hacker group and the amount of damage I could do,” Eugene says, running a hand down his face.

“And what? Thinking you’re a terrible person is stopping you?” Fetch asks with a snort. “Okay.”

Eugene squints up at the ceiling. “Okay, when you think about it the logic doesn’t really make sense because crippling self-esteem or not I still know I can bring this whole fucking world to its knees. I guess…knowing I’m terrible helps me try to stay good.” He takes the blunt from her and takes a long drag. “Does any of that make sense?”

“In a weird roundabout way,” she says. “If you like yourself, what’s making you keep trying to be a good person.”

“Exactly!” Eugene hands the joint back. “So I’ve tied it all up in my head for years, I guess, that as long as I hate myself I won’t be Augustine. And like a million other things too because also I mean how good can I be if my parents are chill with throwing me in prison. Like how much of a fuck up did I have to be at that age.”

"Nope. Stop that right now.” Fetch smacks his stomach. “Your mom is a fucking harpy and your dad is…I don’t know your dad but he’s gotta be a piece of fucking work to agree with your mom. They weren’t right. No good parent does what they did.”

“What about yours? Don’t you feel like maybe if you’d been better they wouldn’t have turned you in?” Eugene asks.

“Not really,” Fetch says. “I had Brent though. He didn’t even let me entertain the idea. I mean, with him, how come they couldn’t love me unconditionally the way he did? I knew it was possible.”

"Like you and Delsin,” Eugene says, then jolts upright. “Wow I’m stupid.”

“Huh?” Fetch pushes herself up. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean you guys love me anyways,” Eugene says. “I fuck up, over and over, and you still love me, but you call me on my shit too.”

“Yeah, so did Brent,” Fetch says. “Eugene…maybe it’s because I’m stoned but I’m not seeing what point you’re trying to make.”

“It’s possible, Fetch. To love people unconditionally and push them to be better and they never did that,” Eugene says. “So why am I still bending over backwards to be this perfect person my mom would want, when neither you or Delsin or asking for it? Even if I was exactly what she wanted she’d still hate me or find something else.”

“I don’t want to like, crush your moment, believe me,” Fetch says, reaching out and covering his hand with hers. “But I don’t know how this wasn’t obvious.”

“I mean…it’s one of those things I’ve known rationally but thinking about it now it just sorta…it’s hitting me as something real instead of just something we say to make ourselves feel better.”

“You know Delsin and I would never let you become what you fear, right?” Fetch asks.

Eugene squeezes her hand. “Yeah. I do.”

 

-.-

 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

"I’m just trying to be careful,” Delsin says. “You’ve had a lot on your plate lately and I just didn’t want you jumping into anything before you’re ready.”

Eugene grabs Delsin’s wrists, guiding them up by his head and pinning them there. “I have thought about this for way too damn long not to be sure about it, trust me. Just…we’re not going to do anything crazy so it’ll be good.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop worrying,” Delsin says.

“Good.”

Eugene keeps a strong grip on Delsin’s wrists as he presses their lips together. With everything they’ve done, vanilla sex shouldn’t be all that intimidating and yet…it is. With the kink they’ve been experimenting with, they’re both in the dark, floundering and figuring it out together. This though, this Delsin could judge him on. Not that it should matter. Eugene pulls out of the kiss, remembering his conversation with Fetch. Even if Delsin did judge him, it wouldn’t matter because Delsin loved him and wasn’t going to leave him over something so small.

Delsin rubs his bicep. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Eugene smiles. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You love me.”

“Uh…yeah. I do. Is this new for you?” There’s a teasing note in his voice, but his gaze is serious.

“No. I’m just more sure of it now.”

Eugene kisses him again, not urgently or hurried like usual. Much of their sexual activity had been marred by a frantic edge, a tool to release tension so they didn’t explode. That’s not how it is anymore. It’s new territory in its own way. Not that Eugene didn’t love what they’d done before – quite the contrary. But for the first time, every movement is because he _wants_ to, not because he’s trying to prove something to himself or Delsin, and not because he’s driven by some anxious need to feel good, or feel anything, for just a moment.

They kiss until their lips tingle. Eugene had gotten hard only to soften again as he sunk deeper into the intimacy of it all without any desire to chase down the pleasure. When Eugene pulls back. Delsin’s eyes are blown wide. There’s a flush in his cheeks and a dazed quality to the look in his eyes and Eugene realizes all at once how good it can be to just do this. He can drive Delsin wild with kisses or a stern hand. Delsin will like both just fine. His tongue flicks out over his lower lip before he kisses Delsin again. It’s shorter this time, mostly because he wants to move along to kissing every inch of him. Delsin moves easily with him, shedding his shirt when Eugene tugs at it and then combing his hands through Eugene’s hair as he sucks a slow mark just above his right nipple.

Delsin’s cock is more than a little interested as Eugene’s teeth graze his other nipple, if the way Delsin’s hips surge up against his is anything to go by. Eugene sits up, splaying a palm out on Delsin’s chest to steady himself. Once he’s caught Delsin’s gaze he rolls his hips down, watching how Delsin’s eyes flutter and feeling the way his chest heaves under his grip. He’s struck by an intense desire then to know how Delsin’s face will look when he’s being fucked. The thought alone almost has him coming in his pants.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Eugene says, more than a little breathless.

“The feeling is mutual,” Delsin says, hands grabbing at Eugene’s hips.

That seems, for whatever reason, to be the game changer. They shed their remaining clothes in a flurry and Eugene gets to his favorite position to drive Delsin crazy; between his thighs with his tongue licking Delsin open. Eugene doesn’t get why Delsin likes it so much. He’s returned the favor and Eugene likes it, but it doesn’t take him long to render Delsin speechless like this. He doesn’t get it, but he’s more than willing to do it. Delsin opens easy for his lubed fingers, heel dragging down the middle of Eugene’s back as Eugene moves his mouth up to tease his balls. Eugene’s name leaves his lips in a stuttered gasp.

“I know the goal of this is for me to fuck you but Jesus Delsin you’re so easy for this,” Eugene says, voice strained as he eases a third finger in.

“Maybe next time you can make me come on your fingers and then your dick right after,” Delsin says.

Eugene groans, forehead pressing against Delsin’s hip. “You can’t just _say_ stuff like that.”

Delsin rocks down on his fingers. “C’mon, c’mon…”

Eugene obeys, Delsin’s words having lit some sort of fire in his veins. He slicks his cock up and tosses the lube aside a moment later before sitting back on his heels and just…looking at Delsin. His dark skin is flushed, nipples tight and cock leaking and fuck he’s gorgeous. Eugene presses in, slow but insistent. Delsin opens right up for him, back arching as he chokes on his own breath and Eugene is right there with him, lost in the feeling of Delsin clenching so tight around his own cock.

For a long moment, all they can really do is cling to each other. Eugene swivels his hips a little as Delsin pulls him into a kiss, earning himself a hissed curse and bite along his jaw. That’s all he can really do. His gut feels tight and he just knows one thrust is all he’s going to be able to manage before he comes. He says as much to Delsin between kisses.

"It’s okay,” Delsin says. “You can eat me out or something until you’re ready for round two.”

Eugene drops his head into Delsin’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut as he gives his first experimental thrust. The noise Delsin’s makes is breathy and desperate. Eugene slides his hands under Delsin’s ass, angling up as he dares another short thrust and then another shortly after. It’s a little easier than he thought but he can feel the tension building fast like a rapidly tightening string between his navel and his cock. He manages a few more thrusts before he comes. Delsin holds him close as he shakes through his orgasm.

Delsin is still hard as a rock between their bellies. Eugene pushes himself upright and eases out, wincing when Delsin reflexively clenches down around him.

“Sorry,” Delsin says, brushing Eugene’s hair back from his forehead.

“Not your fault,” Eugene says. He drops a hand down to grasp at Delsin’s dick and gives it a slow, dry stroke. “You want me to eat you out still?”

“Literally anything is good with me as long as I come,” Delsin says, fucking up into Eugene’s hand.

Eugene settles for kissing him breathless instead as he fucks Delsin with his fingers. He doesn’t tease like he usually does. He wants it to be good without their usual power play, at least this time. He swallows every one of Delsin’s noises with his kisses, only stopping when Delsin comes because he loves the sounds that escape him then more than anything else they do. After, he flops down on his back beside him. Delsin doesn’t hesitate to roll on top of him for cuddles.

Round two isn’t too far off. Eugene can feel his cock stirring just from Delsin’s warm weight after all, but for now, holding Delsin close is more than satisfying.

“I love you,” Eugene says.

“Love you too.”

Eugene’s chest warms. For the first time, he doesn’t doubt that Delsin does.

 

-.-

 

“Pretty sure watching the sunset on the Space Needle is breaking probation,” Fetch says.

“Nah, I’ve got us invisible to all the prying eyes,” Eugene says, handing her two wine glasses. “Now chill.”

He sits down beside her as Delsin roots around through the cooler behind them. The sun is still twenty minutes from setting so they have time.

“If you were really concerned, you’ve would’ve asked him about it before we got here,” Kuo says as she sits next to Fetch and takes one of the glasses. “You knew he’d have it handled.”

“Got it!” Delsin appears before them in a puff of smoke with the bottle of wine. “I definitely put too much beer in that cooler. Who’s first?”

Fetch thrusts her glass out. “All the way to the top please, D.”

Delsin pours them all a glass before sitting down beside Eugene. “You should be in charge of all dates from now on. This is classy.”

Eugene flushes. “It’s a little sappy isn’t it?”

“Sappy doesn’t mean bad,” Kuo says. “We’ve needed a little romance in our lives. Thanks, Eugene.”

Fetch sips her wine. “For real though, I _never_ thought this would be my life. I didn’t think it was possible to be this god damned happy.” She curls into Kuo’s side. “I’m so glad I found all of you…”

Eugene’s throat tightens and he reaches out to grab her hand. She squeezes it and offers a smile. He doesn’t need to add that he feels the exact same, because even if things aren’t perfect, he’s miles ahead of what he’d dreamed of one day having just a few years ago.

“C’mere,” Delsin says, tugging him close.

Eugene sets his wine glass down so he doesn’t splash them both with its contents before relaxing into Delsin’s grasp. He’s warm. Eugene takes a deep breath, inhaling the wood smoke smell he’s always found so comforting.

It’s not perfect but he feels like maybe it will be one day.

And that….that’s something worth waiting for.


End file.
